


Thixophobic Draw

by missema



Series: Big Damn Heroes [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kissing, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phobias, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:50:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia Shepard isn't one for relationships, her protective nature making it hard for her to let others touch her, but Zaeed Massani gains her trust.  Their relationship unfolds, the merc and the commander each overcoming their own personal hurdles to forge something unexpected and meaningful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thixophobia is the clinical name for fear of being touched by another person.

She didn't like being touched, a strange little quirk, but he'd seen it before, just not normally with a human.  Zaeed noticed it about her first thing, and watched her flinch, draw away whenever skin to skin contact is offered.  Shepard preferred to salute to people, or offering them a nod, hands clasped behind her back, looking every bit the official soldier.  When it comes to battle, she can throw a punch, hell, he's even seen Shepard kick a merc out of a window, but shaking hands is hard for the war hero.  
  
He didn't mention it to anyone, just made note of it in his mind.  Others noticed too, but no one really tried to touch Shepard either, so it didn't impact her daily dealing that much.  Aside from that, she maintained a cool facade, an approachable distance, every inch the commanding officer, an inspiring ideal.  
  
There was more to her than the surface, more than just the officer presented.  Often, she'd go out of her way to help people without expecting a reward, but didn't shelter them from their own stupidity.  He'd killed with her, their mission giving them some of the most exciting fights in recent memory, but he didn't know a thing about Shepard.  Most of the time, it didn't matter so long as the creds flowed, but this mission was different, and Shepard definitely was worth his study.  
  
"Garrus."  Zaeed grunted at the turian as sat down in the mess.  "Got a question for you."  
  
"Shoot.  Well, not literally, you aim to kill."  Garrus said, looking over at the scarred man.  He hadn't been eating, even if the Mess Sergeant made something he could eat, he would have passed.  Calibrations were making his tired eyes cross today and he wanted to just get out of the main battery for a few minutes, but then got caught up talking with the crew.  They weren't a bad bunch, but none of them seemed to know much about the organization they served.  
  
"You're goddamned right I do."  Zaeed growled, but then backed off.  "Your Commander Shepard, what's her story?  I mean, you're her friend."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose we are friends."  The turian answered, just enough doubt in his voice to give Zaeed pause.  "But the thing about it is, Shepard, she's a loner, always quiet and keeps to herself.  I don't think anyone really knows much about her background, other than Anderson.  But all those medals - she earned each and every one, and she's the finest commanding officer I've ever served under."  
  
"As for her story, I'd imagine you'd have to get it out of the woman herself.  I certainly don't know it."  Garrus explained with a laugh.  "And I don't think she's told Cerberus all of her secrets.  I wouldn't."  
  
"That's because you're not a damned fool, and neither is she.  Was just curious, that's all."  Zaeed offered as a lame explanation, but he knew Garrus probably wouldn't think twice about their conversation.  Everyone asked about Shepard at some point, and he was just another face asking about the famous Mia Shepard, savior of the galaxy.  
  
He had another reason, one he doesn't share with anyone.  Whenever he had free time, Zaeed found himself looking at the public copy of her military record and the dossier he got from the Illusive Man - all part of the package sent over when Cerberus was trying to convince him to take this job.  He knows what everyone else knows about her past, the gangs on Earth, no parents, commendations once she joined the Alliance.  Zaeed snorted as he thought about it - the Reds.  A shit kids gang run by idiots, the blind leading the blind by brute force.  But they were protective of their members, their sheer numbers intimidating anyone that tried to harass them.    
  
Mia's visited him more often than strictly necessary, the commander coming down to the starboard cargo bay and speaking with him on a regular basis.  Whenever they pick up someone new, she'd ask his opinion or sometimes she'd wander in just to hear him talk.  At first he thought she was just making the rounds, going to play Skyllian Five with the engineers, and then checking on that psychotic little bitch Jack when she came down to see him.  Then he started getting pulled on more trips off the ship with her, Shepard sitting next to him as they rode in the Kodiak.  
  
Missions weren't the most conducive for conversation, but she'd been taking him along often with the terse explanation that she "valued his skills" groundside.  Fighting at her side had given him the type of challenge to his skills that he hadn't had since his early days of mercenary work and he liked it.  The heady rush of being outnumbered, watching her glow blue with biotics, readying a power as he lined up a concussive shot, the two of them working together to obliterate their opponents.  
  
He'd been called a lot of things and most of them are true to an extent, but ever since being betrayed by that bastard Santiago, Zaeed wasn't unobservant.  Her dark eyes would widen whenever she saw him, her body unconsciously shifting towards him, her body conveying her interest.  Commander Mia Shepard, hero of the Citadel and first human Spectre had a crush on him, an old bastard merc that still bore the scars from being shot in the face by one of his best friends.  
  
And goddamn it, he thought he might have one right back.


	2. Chapter 2

Any fool could appreciate her appearance, and it had been blasted all over by the Alliance, their perfect little poster girl.  Large dark brown doe eyes, framed with thick lashes, a row of short bangs the laid flat across her forehead, the rest of her hair gleaming in black, heavy waves that looked feminine even in a Alliance standard haircut, the ends curling around her collar.  Skin speckled with dark freckles and the occasional mole was the muted brown color of coffee thick with cream, betraying a background of many unknown heritages, a multicultural past on Earth reflected in her very being.    
  
It went without saying that she was fit, her soldier's body corded with lean muscle, the uniforms that encased her displaying her distractingly pleasing form instead of shielding it.  She had curves under there, tantalizingly just out of reach.  What he really liked was the way she talked, no bullshit but not without tact, as if she really thought about every syllable that came out of her mouth.  There was an air about her, a simple honesty without a need for honeyed words as a distraction.  
  
If he could get her clothes off, she'd probably fuck like a hellcat, and he wondered when, if ever she'd last had sex.  Not since she got that new body built by Cerberus, he'd put money on that.  Normally, that thought alone would be enough to spur him into action, shucking his armor as she came through the door of the cargo bay, but with her, he knew he couldn't.  If he acted like he might touch her, she'd start glowing blue and deliver a biotic kick to his balls that would have him coughing them up.  Zaeed rather liked his balls and if she was to touch them, she sure as hell wouldn't be using anything more forceful than her tongue.  
  
"Back again?"  He asked gruffly, pleased at the sound of the metallic swish of the doors opening that heralded her entrance.  
  
"Can't resist the trash compactor."  She quipped, striding past him and back towards it to make her point.  
  
She went over and activated the device, watching as it jettisoned into space, festooning the stars with the leftover detritus that couldn't be reused or recycled in some way.  The damn cargo bay was full of crap, but he'd traveled in much worse conditions.  His mismatched eyes followed her fluid movements, the flat of her hand hitting the proper buttons in succession, graceful as she ignored him in favor of trash.    
  
The smooth curve of her back was outlined by her Cerberus uniform as she bent slightly forward, and good Lord, the already snug suit somehow looked even tighter than the catsuit Miranda paraded about in.  Zaeed could feel heat rising within him as his want grew, but he wasn't some young buck, about to spill in his shorts at the sight of a pretty girl.  Instead of swallowed, took one more brief moment to appreciate her fine form and then crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
  
"Why are you here, Shepard?"  
  
"Do you want me to go?"  She asked without turning around.  Her voice was steady but it betrayed just a hint of her vulnerability in the question.  He could hear another question, just beneath the one she'd asked, wondering and insecure.  If only she knew, really knew what these people thought of her, she'd have no reason in the world to feel insecure.  
  
Women were funny creatures and he'd known enough of them, human, asari, hell, he'd even once met a pretty turian soldier, but nothing had come of their flirtation.   But he'd talked to women, been with more than a few and knew, understood what she wanted.  Shepard was angling to hear him to say he liked her before she admitted it anyone, she wanted him to like her, and would be hurt, heartbroken if he made some misstep, phrased the words wrong.    
  
"Didn't say that, just asked why you came down."  Zaeed replied in a voice somehow even rougher than his normal tone.  Mia was making him a little nervous, the old thrill of discovering someone might actually want to have sex with him atuning him to her feelings, the anxiety she was projecting.  
  
Words weren't his thing - there was no dormant poet inside of him, no eloquence that just needed an inspiring spark, but he could reassure and test at the same time.  He'd moved to stand behind her, and she turned around as he spoke, his voice closer to her than she'd expected.  Instinctively, she stepped back, away from his closeness, but faced him with her shoulders squared.  
  
"I like you."  Shepard admitted quietly, looking down at the floor as she spoke.  The words were unexpected and he felt a renewed surge of heat through his body as she brought her eyes back up to meet his, the pair staring at each other, waiting for the other to move.  
  
"How much?"  Zaeed finally asked, pressing his luck.  She wouldn't stop him, he was sure of that, and he didn't hesitate he reached out a hand to touch her, slowly, deliberately.  
  
Shepard froze, understanding his meaning.  His fingers advanced towards her, the tips nearing her face.  Body rigid, he watched the muscle in her jaw jump as she clenched it shut, keeping herself still for him.  Fearful, dark eyes followed his fingers avidly, the only part of her that was moving.  She wasn't going to move away, but it was taking all of her control to let him get nearer.  
  
Zaeed brushed her face with his fingertips, dusting lightly along her jawline.  Shepard was still poker-straight, but she'd lost the wild animal look in her eyes.  
  
"Enough to trust you."  Her voice was as soft as his continued caress, and he felt an unbidden smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"I wouldn't trust me."  He said, letting his fingers trail lower, down her neck as he did.  She wasn't relaxing anymore, but he was encouraged that she hadn't moved yet.  "But for what it's worth, I'd die for you, even if the Illusive Man wasn't paying me to."  
  
Slowly, she nodded, the movement careful and tight, her eyes shut.  He stepped back, dropping his hand back at his side.  She moved away from him, and he watched the woman take huge, steadying gulps of air.  There was something more, words just on the end of her tongue, hanging between them.  Zaeed waited in expectant silence, not sure if she was going to yell or launch herself into his arms, though he preferred the latter, he suspected she might go with the yelling.  
  
Instead she left, striding away without a word of goodbye.


	3. Chapter 3

Zaeed had a special fondness for bullheaded, deadly women and Mia was hitting every one of his soft spots as if he'd simply told her what to do. They didn't talk about what happened between them, and she hadn't come back down to see him yet. Whatever was holding her back, whatever she needed to sort out in her own mind was keeping her away, but he could wait. It was enough that he saw her on missions, watching her gun down some of the stupidest mercs in the galaxy, hearing her voice as she gave orders, seeing that taut control as she unleashed her biotics mercilessly on an enemy.  
  
Shepard came back, walking into his cargo bay with a purpose that quickened her pace, and this time didn't wait for him to talk before she reached out to him. It was almost like when he'd touched her, but she was reaching for his hand, the gesture nearly forgotten to him. Threading her fingers through his, he could hear her trying to control her short, shallow breaths. He stood still, waiting, letting the warmth of her hands mingle with his own as she calmed herself.  
  
Turning to face him, she smiled, a cute, self-conscious little expression, clearly pleased with herself.  
  
"You came all the way down here to hold hands? I could have gone up to your cabin." Zaeed frowned at Mia. He wanted her to be comfortable, and her room had to be better than his little corner of the ship.  
  
"No." She shook her head at him, dark hair shining in the overhead light. "I had to come on my own."  
  
They were silent, standing there together, bound by their hands. The gesture, everything it symbolized was so endearingly chaste, Zaeed wondered if he'd ever been so pure that just holding hands could excite him. Maybe he was broken now, an old man made foolish with sentiment, but he could feel a glow spreading through him whenever he looked down at their interlocked hands.  
  
"Did someone hurt you?" Zaeed asked, trying to keep the menacing note out of his voice and failing miserably. She didn't cringe, but she couldn't have missed it. He knew it was useless to get mad about things he couldn't change, but nothing turned his stomach like the thought of harming children.  
  
"I grew up on the streets. Everyone hurt me if they could. But it's easier not to even touch, to be defensive and not let people in. It got easier in the Alliance, not the trusting, but I learned how to deal with small, everyday types of touches." She explained, and gave his hand a squeeze as she spoke. He squeezed back and was rewarded with another warm smile, this one less self-conscious than the other.  
  
"After all those Cerberus assholes had me sedated and were poking at me, it kind of resurfaced, even though I've tried to control it."  
  
Zaeed said nothing, realizing that she was probably the only person on the whole ship with more shitty baggage than he had. Alien mind probes, endless responsibility and the burden of command, first human Spectre and coming back from the dead was enough, but then add to that a life growing up on the streets of Earth, in a street gang and then going into the Alliance with all those mindless rules and tests. She wore N7 armor, had the training that only elite officers got and he knew she'd been at the top of her class without even asking. Driven and determined with too much pressure and stress atop a mind with a savior mentality, it was no wonder she shut down in some way.  
  
"Why me?" He asked, he had to ask it, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. It wasn't insecurity or vanity that made him ask, but a real curiosity. She could have anyone, anyone in all the worlds, and she'd chosen an angry old merc who'd had half his face blasted off.  
  
"Why not?" Mia responded with a small laugh. She was still holding his hand and she squeezed it ever so slightly, the gentle pressure making a long-forgotten sense of anticipation rise within him. "Because you get it, get me." She answered truthfully, and Zaeed understood what she meant. To him, she wasn't Commander first, but simply herself, Mia, as complex and beautiful as she was.  
  
She was still looking at him over her shoulder, the coquettish tilt of her body spurring him into action. Without a moment to think, Zaeed kissed her, reaching an arm around her face, pulling her to face him.  
  
The movement was as careful as it was quick, and he didn't press his body up against hers, despite what he wanted. But his lips, he used them to convey a message, the kiss filled with things he couldn't say, desires he didn't have words for, and his response to the feelings she drummed up in him with every visit. He'd been unsure, almost hesitant to kiss her, but she kissed him back, her mouth responding to his, her tongue seeking his out as the kiss went on. Her hand landed on his arm, but didn't push him away. Fingers dug into the tattooed flesh as she gripped him, her strong hand unexpected against his skin.  
  
"Too much?" He asked gruffly after he'd pulled away. Mia was a little shaken as she stepped away from him, out of his reach.  
  
"Yes. No. I'm not sure." Mia said, shaking her head to clear it as she voiced her conflicting feelings.  
  
"If I'd asked, you wouldn't have let me do it. But I'll ask next time, if that's what you want, Shepard."  
  
"I'm not sure that's what I need. Chambers, I've been talking to her. She said that it was trust, that I should get more comfortable with you, touch you as a sign of trust. People don't always ask to touch someone they trust." She explained. "It's been...a long while since I've been kissed."  
  
"Anytime you want a refresher course, you know where to find me." Zaeed informed her. Mia laughed and re-laced her fingers through his one last time. Her fingertips smoothed over the rough surface of his skin, and he noticed her soft her warm hand was. There was nothing dainty or delicate about Shepard, but her hand was still retained a femininity, just through her movements.  
  
"I know." Mirth still colored her voice as she answered, giving his hand a squeeze again before she left him standing alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Her kisses were surprisingly sweet, or at least they always started out that way. Cautious, soft lips would press lightly against his, ever tantalizing, each kiss growing in intensity as it lengthened. It was like a shot of liquor that went down smooth and then spread a heated burn throughout his chest, flooding his veins and making every limb tingle. Mia tasted like spices, and behaved like a heady wine in his system whenever they kissed.  He moaned aloud, trying to recall the last time they'd kissed.  It had been too long ago, too long.  No one was around to look at him strangely as he made his way to the mess, and he was glad for the solitude.  Last thing he wanted was more gossip spread about him, he moaning and grunting in the corridors like some wild animal, desperate to see Shepard again.  
  
She didn't care who knew about them, but he did. Zaeed didn't like too many eyes on him, was guarded against anyone finding out too much about him. He liked Shepard, talked to her, but to the rest of the crew, he was a bastard old gun for hire, foul and taciturn, an image that suited him fine. Normally, it would have been apt, but not on the Normandy, not with Mia parading into the cargo bay and kissing him until he achieved a steeliness that hadn't been around for many years and then leaving him frustrated.  
  
Shepard wound him up like a bloody teenager, then left him alone to wank in frenzied solitude.  
  
They'd gotten more comfortable together, and he found that she, of all people, could make him laugh. Mia knew even more dirty jokes than that crazy bitch Jack, and that was saying something. She'd sit on the edge of the shelf that ran around his room, pushing away whatever flotsam had collected there, but always treating his things with careful, reverential hands as she moved them out of her way. He'd watch her every time, watch her perfect body hoist herself up, settling in so they could talk a long time.  
  
Kelly Chambers was trying to help her, advise her to work through her aversion to touch without trauma. According to her, she wasn't truly phobic of touch, just adverse to it, due to the things that happened in her past. He didn't delve into her past, and she stayed well away from him.  
  
Sometimes they'd have those talks, setting boundaries and testing them, though he wasn't much for the discussion, over-analyzing things. Every serious talk or deep discussion was a disquieting reminder that they were hurtling toward a relationship, towards trust and responsibility, that this might _mean_ something. But he went along with it, his desire to have Shepard naked and squirming underneath him trumping his distate at becoming a couple. It had been days since he'd seen her, Mia busy mining planets and talking to Mordin about upgrades, always trying to keep the ship from going under if those Collector bastards hit them again. Zaeed missed her, but didn't seek her out, he had too much pride to go running to her room every night.  
  
"Shepard." Zaeed grunted in a surprised tone, as a shadow loomed over him. He knew it was her just by the boots alone, but there were only a few people on the ship that didn't walk like a goddamn stampede of horses. Kasumi, for sure, but Mia was surprisingly light-footed.  
  
He'd been rummaging through a cabinet, looking for something edible amongst the crap Gardner had left out for the night shift. Not many people were around, most having either gone to bed or to their stations, but he knew Chakwas was still in the med bay. The doctor was the type of top-notch broad that he liked, something about her said that she wasn't too good to get her hands dirty, and she didn't ask too many questions. When he and Jack and come up sporting Varren bites and bloody noses after their trip to Tuchanka, she didn't flinch as they told her the story about the Varren wrestling ring. Whatever bites he got was worth it, he'd won a fuckton of creds off those krogan.  
  
"What are you doing?" Mia asked him, her quiet voice curious.  
  
"Looking for something that doesn't have the label 'gumbo' on it. Only so much a man can take. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Need to talk to Miranda."  
  
Zaeed grunted. He didn't dislike the Cerberus officer, but he wasn't going to start sharing drinks with her either. Too many thoughts running around in her head, and insecure to boot. He avoided women like her as though she had scale itch. He straightened up, standing to face her and found Mia closer than he'd expected.  
  
This was new. After all her visits to see him, she'd begun testing herself, standing closer, reaching out to him, letting him be more spotaneous with his touches. There was still a definite line, a place of comfort he didn't want to force her to retreat to if he did too much, but she'd lost her hesitation.  
  
"C'mere." Zaeed carefully leaned forward and kissed Mia, his dry lips kissing the side of her neck first, then moving on to meet her mouth.  
  
She leaned eagerly into the kiss, her body warming him though his armor, making his pulse race. Her response was unexpected, he jumped slightly when he felt a hand squeeze his arse, absorbing her laughter in their kiss.  
  
"Cheeky bitch." He breathed, but he smiled as he kissed her again, bringing Mia closer to him, pressed up tight to him. They'd never done this before, he'd always had to be so bloody careful when he held her, otherwise she'd wind up squirming away from him, that hunted look in her eyes as she tried to escape. Always spoiled the mood.  
  
The new contact, the closeness that he didn't dare violate before shattered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and Zaeed groaned, unable to stop himself. A hand swept upwards, up her back and into her hair, the simple caress letting him explore further. It felt like such a treat, just to press his chest against her, to feel her hair in his hands, because he hadn't pushed, wouldn't have dared to go further than she allowed. Doing anything too aggressive would have shattered the fragile trust they were building.  
  
It wasn't as if Shepard was the only one that had this issue. Sure, people could touch him, but he wasn't trusting either, had learned that lesson the hard way. Any unexpected touches could wind up with broken fingers or worse. With her tiny gestures, holding hands, smiles and kisses, she'd started breaking down him down.  
  
The last woman he'd been with was this asari, beautiful and shallow. Everything had been right out there on the surface, or that's what he'd thought. She wore her innate sexuality as a distraction, an enticing diversion while she double-crossed and sold him out.  
  
Mia wasn't anything like that dumb bint, each kiss a sign of trust won as they inched closer to bed. There was nothing duplicitous in her attentions, but rather her affections a reward after enduring her diversions. Shepard could have continued coming down to see him, and probably wouldn't have said a thing at all, rationalizing the compartmentalization of her feelings as part of the mission. He'd had to work for her, and Zaeed was enjoying the benefits at each step.  
  
He didn't hear the footsteps approaching them, still too caught up in the kiss, but rather felt Mia tense, and then pull abruptly away. She stepped quickly around the front of the counter, skin still flushed and blush high on her cheeks as Zaeed stood there alone, looking like a fish out of water.  
  
"Commander." Crewman Hawthorne said, nodding at her as he sits down at the mess, datapad in front of him.  
  
"Crewman." Shepard nodded back, her cool demeanor returning so quickly, Zaeed could barely keep up.  
  
Though her tone was official, she looked anything but, her hair mussed in the back where he'd run his hands through it, lips reddened from kissing his. She wasn't fooling anyone and he was sure Crewman Nosy was sending an alert to the ship about what he'd just walked in on. Zaeed glared at the back of his head, silently daring the man to spread rumors about him and Shepard.  
  
"Shepard." He growled at her out of the corner of his mouth, but she shook her head at him.  
  
"Another time, Zaeed." He heard the promise implied in the words, but can't resist one last swipe at her, needling her to guage her reaction with an audience.  
  
"You're using me, Shepard." It was a joke, although he had half a mind to tell Miranda to sod off and take Mia someplace where they could finish what they'd started.  
  
"You know I'm not. But maybe I am." Mia replied cryptically, smiling as she walked away towards Miranda's office, throwing the last words over her shoulder. "Maybe I am."  
  
All he could do was stand there and stare, open-mouthed as she walked away from him. From his left, he heard Hawthorne snicker quietly as he pretended to gaze at his datapad.


	5. Chapter 5

It became a game, well, not a game, but something more amusing and comfortable than it started out as. The two of them were obvious, but not overt, sex simmering just below the surface whenever they were in close proximity. There was a real affection there too, buried deeper, more private, somehow harder to acknowledge than the thunder of absolute carnal want that engulfed Zaeed whenever Mia was around.  
  
Her visits were more frequent, longer. They began and ended with kisses, teases, promises yet to be fulfilled. He knew, Zaeed had no doubt that they'll soon finish this dance in the only way they could.  
  
"Shepard, stop fucking teasing me." Zaeed growled into her ear during her next visit.  
  
She shuddered, not because of how close they were standing in the cargo bay, nearly touching already even though she'd just walked in, but because of him. He knew that she wouldn't move away from him, but that small tremor that ran through her was a thrill of anticipation, a dark promise made clear in his tone. For a fleeting moment he wondered what she'd do, how she'd react to the thoughts running through his mind. Only one way to find out.  
  
Quickly, he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other just under her arm, pulling her tight against him as he lifted her up in the air. The Commander went a little rigid, but then she melded herself to him, and he felt a surge of triumph just in that. Securing her with a well-placed hand under her ass, Zaeed walked a few paces with Shepard in the air, her arms locked around him like a fucking mad hanar. He nearly laughed into the smooth skin of her neck, trying to recall if he'd ever told her about the time he'd fought one of those jellies, but he filed the thought away, this really wasn't the time. Neatly, he deposited her on the table, pushing his souvenir Blood Pack helmet onto the floor. It had enough dents already, he didn't care if it gained a few more.  
  
"What the fuck is your problem?" No longer shocked, Mia looked angry and more than a little alarmed still at the unexpectedness of being picked up and manhandled. He stood in front of her, in between her legs as she sat on the table, her back pressed up against the starboard side of the ship.  
  
"EDI, privacy." Zaeed barked out the order and behind his shoulder the windows obscured.  
  
"Certainly, Mr. Massani." EDI's synthetic voice rang out, and Mia realized that Zaeed had given this order before. She was calmer, no longer shocked, but still looked angry at him.  
  
"I love that damned thing. Always _Mr. Massani_ , to her."  
  
"You have a privacy program?"  
  
"You would too if that smart-ass pilot had leaked security footage of you. Man can't have a drink and then pass out in his own room without the whole ship finding out." Mia snickered, remembering the video that had spread through the crew like wildfire.  
  
Drunk Zaeed in various states of undress in the starboard cargo bay, spewing obscenities at anyone unfortunate enough to pass by his window and when no one did, the walls, the ceiling, and singing drinking songs at the top of his lungs. That had been just after they'd met him in Omega and she'd been mortified every time she looked at him for weeks.  
  
"Disabled cameras?" Shepard asked, and Zaeed just nodded, tracing a finger down her neck.  
  
She could take the touching once it had already begun, and Zaeed found her responses exciting, but it was getting her started that was the trouble. Mia was comfortable with him, but her own mind, well, she just thought about it too much. So he'd started doing this, not asking for permission and touching, kissing her whenever he pleased. She would have killed anyone else for it, or at least given them a few broken bones for their trouble.  
  
"I want you, Shepard. I want to see you." Zaeed bit at her jaw as he said it, letting hand trace the curve of her breast. God, she smelled amazing, not overpowering but a deep, musky, woodsy scent, her mixed with whatever shampoo or whatever the hell else she slapped on in the mornings. It was feminine but not sweet, no, he bet the only thing about Shepard that was sweet was the way she tasted.  
  
He helped her wriggle out of the uniform, taking off her boots, lifting her so she could slide the pants off, her clothes discarded in a heap on the floor. With each piece, Zaeed kissed her, hard kisses, full of the frustrated heat that throbbed within him. He wouldn't push Shepard to sleep with him, that victory would come naturally. She complied readily with his request; they both wanted more than their chaste relationship. He took the initiative, realizing that after weeks of sweet, teasing kisses, Mia was still timid, unsure how to voice her desires.  
  
Completely naked before him, he stopped entirely and just looked at her, unable to stay his hands as they skimmed the curves of her body. She was a marvel, all of her old marks and scratches vanished from the muted bronze of her skin, courtesy of Cerberus and about half a trillion creds. Every inch of her was solid with muscle under his scarred hands, but completely unmarred, and he took his time staring, the mismatched eyes lingering over her high, pert breasts, nipples tightening under his gaze.  
  
Zaeed descended upon her lips, biting and nipping at her, the kiss potent, intoxicating. Mia leaned into him, responding more eagerly than normal, her desire heightened by the naked, exposed skin that he constantly caressed, his touches rougher as they go on.  
  
"You want me?" He asked, pulling away from her.  
  
"What kind of question is that? You think I let just anyone undress me?"  
  
"Fucking show me then. Show me what you do when you think of me." He picked up her hand meaningfully, and placed the longest finger in his mouth, sucking on the digit. "These fingers work up a sweat, don't they? I want to see you come."  
  
Obediently, she followed the command, ever the soldier, even in the bedroom. Shy at first, he grunts his approval as she slips a hand between her legs, the sound encouraging her to be bolder. A finger parted the trimmed nest of dark hair, the curls just around the entrance already slick. Zaeed dropped another kiss on her lips before leaning back, careful not to interrupt her hand from its path. He stared avidly as she built up speed and fervor, arching her back towards him as she teased her clit. Fingers worked together, circling and pinching, plunging in and out of her cunt. Being a passive audience for her was too much, furious, unbridled fire pouring through him as he kissed her, limiting himself just her lips and nipples until she came. He could hold back that long.  
  
"Shepard." Zaeed groaned her name as he watched her, head titled awkwardly as he watched her fingers from the top down. They were covered in her own wetness, slipping and sliding in and out of her as they kissed. With an obvious effort, he restrained himself from assisting, taking pleasure in the show.  
  
" _Mia_. If you want to fuck me, you should call me by my name." She panted, and Zaeed chuckled against her skin. He swiped his tongue across the beaded tip of her breast one last time before he stood back upright.  
  
"You're awfully goddamn demanding for someone that's knuckle-deep inside of her own cunt, moaning my name." Zaeed observed. He sounded calm, but he struggled to maintain the facade.  
  
Just before she came, the fingers moved faster, almost a blur and Zaeed clamped his mouth on hers, kissing her again. He could feel her tensing, as she worked, pulsing and shivering as her orgasm neared. He twisted a nipple between two fingers, hard and unyielding, and he felt her gasp against his mouth just before she stiffened, her body drawing up just before release. With a convulsive series of quakes that seemed to go on for at least a minute, she came. His name was stretched out in her moan, hearing it made him even harder in his armor, cock furious as he continued to ignore it. Mia was bucking around her fingers, a sheen of sweat making her skin glow as her moaning died down.  
  
Without waiting, Zaeed dipped his head down, enthusiastic, needy tongue lapping at her clit. God, she was still coming, sticky wetness covering his face as he sucked at the huge, engorged bud, a finger sliding in and out of her. Inside was just as he'd imagined, she was hot and grasping, tight around his finger as he withdrew it. In his pants, his prick ached, wanted to experience that sweetness, feel her sopping wet and coming around it.  
  
"Zaeed, please. Oh, God. Zaeed." He could barely hear her, her thighs were closing in on his ears. Using his free hand he forced one away, tongue never skipping a beat as it slid up and down her wet slit.  
  
She came again, less violently this time, the climax growing out of the embers of the other. It hadn't been his plan to dive face first between her legs, but rational though had never been his forte. Fingers ran lazily through his hair as she came down again and without the distraction of her orgasm, he was aware of his awkward positioning, his body starting to ache at the moment of realization. He didn't withdraw his finger from her, but righted himself and stood up, between her legs once again. Mia had the look of a drunk sailor, flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes that fluttered shut as he kissed her.  
  
"You even taste goddamn perfect, you know that?" Zaeed asked, dropping his head towards her ear so she could hear his whispered confession.  
  
 "Mmm," was all she said back to him, words unable to form in her blissful mouth.


	6. Chapter 6

Miranda slithered out of her office as Zaeed was on his way to the bathroom. It was a damn shame, big ship like this and only one place to shower. It wasn't uncommon on ships, especially smaller ones, but on a ship this size, there should have been a little more thought put into the engineering section. Sometimes he wished he could do that cloaking shit like Kasumi, so he can do his business and be gone without anyone knowing.    
  
"Mr. Massani." Miranda called out to him, making him dread turning around.  When she said it wasn't nearly as nice as when that AI did.  
  
"Ms. Lawson." He growled back at her, waiting for her to come over to him.  
  
"I understand we'll be stopping at Zorya soon, to complete the terms of your contract." Miranda's look made it clear that she knew everything, but in response, Zaeed simply nodded.  
  
"It may be wise to inform the Commander of your previous...connections before we land planetside."  
  
"What does it matter?" His voice was gruff, defensive. Miranda was putting his back up, probably to get a rise out of him about his relationship with Mia or his past with the Blue Suns.  He didn't care which at this point, it was having the intended affect.  
  
"Shepard would probably want to know, and won't appreciate finding out at the last minute. You, of all people, should understand how she thinks. She's already pulled up the building schematics. I suggest you go and talk to her."  
  
"Keep your goddamn suggestions to yourself, Miranda." Zaeed said, turning away from her. He saw her grimace out of the corner of his eye, but she didn't say anything else. She was right, he should have already talked to Mia about Zorya, about Vido, and everything, but even as close as they were, he just couldn't.  
  
Back in his room, he thought about Miranada's words. Not the warning about his past, but more the " _You, of all people, should understand how she thinks_." The statement wormed into his mind, creeping along as he sleep, making him reconsider everything.  Was he just being foolish with Shepard?  Greedy, perhaps, if not just outright stupid.  
  
What's going on, whatever it is between the two of them is too much, much too much like a relationship for Zaeed. It hadn't started out that way, it was a crush, something that drew him to her, kept her coming back down to talk to him. Maybe it was the mission and all the pressure, but he wasn't convinced of that. It felt more dangerous than just people seeking out comfort before going into the fire. Lover wasn't a role he normally was cast in, sure, he could manage some great nights here and there, but nothing that felt this deep, permanent.  
  
"Mia, we're not going to come back from this mission, you know that." He said to her as he leaned up against the wall in his little corner of the ship.  
  
"I knew that long before you pointed it out."  
  
"I just want to be clear, about everything. Goddamn it." He said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is getting to be a lot more than I thought it would be." He was already fucking this up, making her look at him with that _don't be daft_ look she'd started using on him. But that, that was just what he needed to address, the fact that he knew her looks, that there were ones just for him.  
  
"Too real for you?" She asked, and he was alarmed at the snappish tone. Mia gave orders, sure, but he'd never heard her sound like this. It was a personal, more directed anger and it made him sure that this was something he'd never intended, because only women ever yelled at him in that tone.  
  
"I'm not good in relationships." Zaeed answered, dropping all pretense.  
  
"Well, you should have thought about that before you started one."  
  
"It's just for fun." He insisted, but the excuse sounded hackneyed and ridiculous even to him.  
  
This wasn't just for fun, and they both knew the truth. It was the thought of losing himself to her, giving a damn about more than credits, about her dying again as they probably both would, that was making him overthink. As Mia drew closer to him, her face like thunder, he pulled himself rigid, preparing to be called out on all of this bullshit.  
  
"No, it isn't. We've been dancing closer and closer for the whole time you've been on the ship. Now you want to pull away because you're scared? Of fucking what? Think I'm going to turn up with a little foul-mouthed baby that looks like you one day?" Mia got up in his face, not backing down. "Look, you onery asshole, before you, I was afraid too. Afraid to get close, literally. I still can't say I'm good with everyone touching me, but you and I, we've made something. I'm not sure what it is, but it's special. Don't fuck it up."  
  
And with that, she spun around and walked out, leaving him speechless. Well, if he had to be crazy about someone, at least she wasn't some damn pushover.


	7. Chapter 7

"Stand down, Massani." Mia's voice rang in his head as he replayed the scene with Vido, where Mia let that bastard escape to save a bunch of damn workers.  
  
Days had passed since they'd gone down to Zorya, but his head was still filled with swirling, bitter anger mingled with disappointment. When it happened, he knew it had been for the best, that she was right to save those people but it didn't take the fucking sting out of it. Twenty goddamn years of his life, down the drain because of his own stupidity. He started the fire that made her choose between his vengeance and saving lives. Mia had chosen to save lives; she always did the right thing.  
  
She wouldn't come to him. As he went to sleep every night, he thought of her, only three floors above him, but it might as well have been a million. Out of reach. It was up to him to bridge this gap between them, but he hadn't been able to make himself go before.  
  
He's pacing outside of her quarters, she's in there, he knows it, but he hasn't been able to bring himself to go to the door. Instead, he's walking the little hallway between her room and the elevator, trying to get his thoughts all straightened out.  
  
"Commander Shepard is in the shower, Mr. Massani." EDI's voice rings out, informing him.  
  
"Tell her I'm out here." He growled back at it. He was done waiting.  
  
A few minutes later, Mia appeared, and she really had been showering. Her hair was still damp, though toweled dry, and she wore a plain white shirt that was damp and clingy in spots, a pair of shorts on that left only her ass to the imagination. Not distracted by her choice of clothing, or lack thereof, he pushed his way into her room.  
  
"You fucking bitch." He said, pinning her against the wall. It was what he'd planned on saying, but when he had his chance he faltered. The words lacked heat, and instead a rebuke they sounded sorry and broken, melancholic.  
  
"I'm so sorry." Mia answered, wrapping her arms around him. This wasn't how he'd planned it, but he sank into her embrace, kissing her neck, smelling her soap, the taste of the nothingness of water on her skin as his mouth closed over an errant droplet.  
  
"We'll kill him, I promise." She was saying into his neck, talking into his Suns tattoo, her lips brushing over the skin. Zaeed pulled buck and shook his head at her.  
  
"Doesn't matter, does it? I need to put this shit behind me so we can finish our mission. We're big goddamn heroes, saving slaves and then running off to stop the Collectors."  
  
Mia laughed at that, and he resumed where he'd left off, tracing patterns up and down her body with his lips and fingers. It took only moments for it to grow heated, humid kisses landing on her, a hand up her shirt, thankful that she hadn't bothered with a bra. Zaeed felt her hands pressing at the seals of his armor, pushing it away. She was stripping him, bringing him closer to her. Their kisses were more aggressive, lips landing on whatever skin was available, teeth nipping, biting, mouths sucking as both of them worked furiously at undressing the other.  
  
Zaeed's rough hands caught hers and stopped them, he could do it faster. Right now, he just wanted it off, to finally be with her. She understood and moved away, leaning on her desk as she slid her shorts down, revealing her underwear. Plain, they were always plain, utilitarian, the same comfortable, hold her in place things she wore whenever they went out on missions.  
  
"You're a beautiful woman, would it kill you to have add some lace knickers to your collection?" He asked, staring at her while he shucked the rest of his armor.  
  
She pulled her shirt over her head, baring her breasts to him. "I might have a pair or two. If you're lucky, you'll get to find out." She replied, shooting him a smirk as she did. Oh, there was absolutely no way of stopping him from finding out, especially not if this was going to be his last mission. The remainder of his nights wouldn't be spent alone in some bloody cargo bay, he was sure of that.  
  
Finally freed from all of his clothing, Zaeed took Mia in his arms, kissing her again. She was guiding, well, pushing really, him towards the bed, her hands running over his body, through his hair, as they pressed up against each other, the feeling of her skin against his arousing him. Their kisses were still heated, his tongue working against hers whenever they met, but they were a sweetness underneath it all, an undercurrent that seemed to be both heating him and tempering.  
  
There was something he needed to say, before he was too gone, he realized as they tripped towards the bed.  
  
"Shepard. Mia. I wasn't supposed to find you or feel like this." He gulped, unsure of what to say now that he'd started, but Mia stopped him with a kiss.  
  
"I know. I know what we have." Mia smiled as she pulled him down onto the bed with her. There was nothing else to say, no other words that needed to be spoken.  
  
She was laying on the bed, her nude body flushed, excited as he looked down at her. Dark brown eyes raked over him, and he felt her scrutiny as he loomed above Mia. Her body was almost demure in its positioning, thighs together, an arm across her breasts, dreamy smile decorating her face. Thoughts of how he could turn that smile into a voice that called out his name, begged for release taunted him, turning his flesh to flame. Spurred into action, Zaeed descended upon her, kissing her chest with hungry lips, rolling up the length of her neck until her lips met his.  
  
Urgency dictated his movements, sped him up where he'd normally take his time. Zaeed teased her nipple with his touch, flicking against the peak until it was hardened, sucking at it as his hips ground into hers, their groins rolling desperately, relief eluding them.  
  
"Come on, Massani." Mia goaded him as he pulled back. He'd intended to watch as he guided his length into her, but her attempt at coercion failed, the frenzy deep within the well of her eyes betrayed her.  
  
"Just a little payback, love." Zaeed slid the thick head of his erect cock against her slit, teasing the opening. The wetness was incredible, she was sopping, eager as she waited for him. He suppressed a moan, but she didn't, arching into his taunting movement.  
  
"Payback?" She asked, in a voice higher than normal. Mia's control was eroding as he repeated the mocking movement, this time unable to silence his longing groan.  
  
"I've been dreaming about you for goddamn months. Let me enjoy having you squirming and naked underneath me."  
  
"Zaeed. Pleeeeease." Mia was crooning now, his name a sweet, pitiful song drenched with her yearning. A barrage of weak fists hit his chest, his arms, anywhere she could reach, in complaint as she continued chanting his name.  
  
Ravenous heat poured through him, spreading like wildfire within his veins, and he attained a strange clarity, as if he were seeing this perfect moment from outside of his own body. He thrust into her, gently as she accommodated to his girth. She cried out, high and loud, and Zaeed let out a long, shaky exhalation. It was like coming home after a long trip away, the amazing feeling of rightness he got as he hilted himself within Mia.  
  
It was slow at first, the two of them taking their time, Zaeed giving long, drawn-out strokes that were intended to kindle as well as inflame. He dropped his body close to hers, and though there were much more interesting positions than missionary, he looked in her eyes, touched her face softly with a scarred hand. This had to be meaningful, an act of love and intimacy, not just lust. She kissed him, locking arms around his neck, moaning against his lips as he lazily worked in and out of her.  
  
When her hips began to work double-time against his own, and he felt Mia snapping against his own motion, he sped up, letting the fever overtake him. A relentless, intense pounding like drumbeats rose between them, and soon it was too warm to lay against her skin and roll comfortably. He shifted, lifting his chest up again and working his hips into hers, burying his cock deeper into the wetness of her cunt.  
  
Mia wasn't without surprises of her own, curling into him as he moved, adapting, arching away from him at key points. Fucking her was like running a marathon and she knew how to get the end before he did. She tilted herself upwards, and let him get a perfect rhythm, the end of his cock hitting her just right. With every stroke she gave a savage squeeze, velvety walls crushing against his length until he felt her unravel.  
  
With a high, mewling cry that might have been his name made unrecognizable, she came. He felt the flood of hot, viscous fluid soak his shaft, her whole body quivering with the force of her orgasm. Zaeed worked her through it with short, violent thrusts, grinding his teeth as he did, aching for his own release.  
  
It came on the heels of hers, and he could feel the dying ripples as he gave in. Stars exploded in front of his eyes, a million shining, shimmering pinpricks as he roared. Around his cock he could feel Mia urging him on, pressing into him, clenching, spurring his orgasm further. The familiar, wonderful euphoria rose within him, replacing the hot desire that carried him previously. His release seemed to go on and on, draining his aching, satisfied prick until he collapsed against her.  
  
As he lay next to her on the bed, their touches were soft and tender. Her fingers dusted across the expanse of his chest, coming to rest on his jaw, his arm hooked around her pressing her body to his chest. Zaeed closed his eyes, smelling the sex hanging in the air, relishing the gentle pressure of her nestled into him.  
  
True triumph beat out contentment as Mia carelessly looped an arm around him and dropped off to sleep. This was what he'd been waiting for, for her to be comfortable enough that this would be normal, an effortless part of their lovemaking. No thought stopped her before she'd put an arm around him, no fears plaguing her anymore, dogging her movements and bringing hesitancy and doubt to her mind.  
  
Feathering a light kiss against Mia's forehead, Zaeed cradled her as he joined her in slumber.


End file.
